I'll be alone for Christmas this year
by Sister-Fangirls-CS
Summary: Every year it's always the same. Always alone. No one but a glass or bottle of wine and a empty house for company. For awhile it was by choice, but now it was because no one remembered or maybe cared to show up at his house on Christmas anymore.


Author note: This is my only my second Sherlock story so please be nice. This was inspired by part from second season Ep: 1. No spoilers.

Warnings: fluff. OOC.

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN!

Every year it's always the same. Always alone.

No one but a glass (or bottle) of wine and a empty house for company.

For awhile it was by choice, but now it was because no one remembered (or maybe cared to) show up at his house on Christmas anymore.

His radio was playing way over done and over played carols and their lively tunes only seemed to echo in and laugh at his otherwise silent and empty house.

Sighing heavily he poured another glass of wine and slowly sat down in an armchair in front of the fire. His undecorated mantle and surrounding room was nothing new, nor was the lack of presents or other Christmas like normality's. It had been years since he had had a 'normal' or even a happy Christmas so he was fairly used to feeling lonely as well. The only one to wish him well that day had been his assistant Anthea, and she had departed with only a quiet 'Merry Christmas Mr. Holmes.' Leaving him to his quiet house and lonely reflections.

It was his fault Mycroft knew that he was once again alone on this holiday. After all, who would want the company of the 'ice man' tonight when joy and general happiness was infecting the rest of London's brains.

His phones somber chime did nothing to lift his spirits and Mycroft nearly ignored the device. But then decided that it may be a distraction from his lonely reflections, if only for a few moments or so.

But the text only fuelled his lonely side even more.

" Alone again Mr. Holmes?" The text said in impersonal yet still cutting sharp words.

"Tsk tsk. Though its best for everyone else's spirits that the Ice Man isn't there to kill the mood eh? Ta ta."

J.M

Mycroft sighed and put the phone down, gazing into the flickering fire light. Such was the life of a politician (and the British government)

Gregory Lestraud was ding his Christmas present rounds. He was on his way to John and Sherlock's party and had a bag of presents for everyone on the seat beside him in the cab.

"Stop here please, Ill just be a moment or so."

Greg noticed the single light emanating from the living room window and lack of a single outward decoration as he made his way up the walkway. Frowning slightly Greg peeked into the living room from outside, feeling just slightly that he was intruding on the elder Holmes's privacy. Yet when he saw just how Mycroft was spending his Christmas Greg was glad that he had decided to deliver his present in person. The only light in the room was a fire, but by that light Greg could see that the room was totally bare of any presents, cards, decorations, or anything Christmas like. And even more sad was the sight of the lone figure sitting in the chair by that fire with a glass of wine held loosely in one hand. No one should have to spend Christmas alone. And the older Holmes brother looked very lonely. Not that Greg didn't know that the posh, always in control politician would never admit it.

Smiling slightly Greg rang the door bell and stood back a little, nearly bouncing on his heels as he waited for the other man to open the door. Glancing down at the brightly wrapped package in his hands Greg bit his lip slightly as he wondered if the elder Holmes brother would like it. It wasn't fancy or overly expensive and the man could practically buy anything he wanted. All the same Greg hoped that the man would like it.

The unexpected chime of the doorbell startled Mycroft. He stood slowly and nearly ambled his way over to the door, wondering who on earth would be at his door on Christmas instead of..well any where else. When he opened the door Mycroft was nearly astonished to see Detective Inspector Gregory Lestraud standing in the snow on his porch with a brightly wrapped gift addressed to Mycroft in his mitten clad hands. What the Inspector said next struck a blow to his heart, chipping away some of the ice surrounding it with the gentle tone.

"Nobody should be alone on Christmas Mr. Holmes." Then Greg held out the present grinning.

Mycroft stared a few moments in stunned silence at the smiling Inspector and the proffered package before reaching out and taking it.

"Thank you Inspector."

If possible Greg's smile only got bigger and he nodded decisively. "We've known each other for nearly 6 years now. You can call me Greg or Gregory you know."

Mycroft disguised his embarrassed cough as best he could before answering. "Allright..Greg. You are on your way to my brothers party I assume. Thank you for the gift, I regret I neglected to buy any for…anyone. I won't keep you any longer." Mycroft started to turn to renter his house, but Greg speaking interrupted his retreat.

"Hey now. Yes I'm on my way to the party and you should come to." Greg smiled at the older Holmes brother encouragingly.

Mycroft's eyes widened at the absurd (but rather appealing) idea that the Inspector (oh yes supposed to call him Greg now) had proposed.

"I couldn't possibly show up to a party uninvited."

"Well I'm inviting you."

"I don't have any gifts."

"Stop making excuses Mycroft and just come to the party. You actually showing up will be mine, Mrs. Hudson's and John's present. You behaving and acting civil twored your brother will be Sherlock's. Now. If you don't come willingly I may just be forced to drag you there handcuffed." Greg's eyes softened as he gazed past Mycroft into the dark empty house behind the politician.

"Mycroft… YOU dont need to be alone this Christmas. Come to the party with me."

Mycroft glanced back at his dark and empty house a moment or two then back at the smiling face of Gregory.

"Allright." He said slowly and watched as the smile on the cops face grew to Cheshire proportions. "Ill just get my coat."

Greg nodded and stepped back as Mycroft turned twored the house.

"Ill let the cabbie know he has another passenger."

Mycroft disappeared momentarily into his house, reappearing in a fluffy winter coat and followed the Inspector (ah. Supposed to call him Greg now.) down to the cab after locking his house.

The cab ride wasn't awkwardly silent as Mycroft had feared, but was quiet in a pleased, companionable way that seemed to emanate from Greg and pass to Mycroft. But he was still uncharacteristically nervous when they pulled up in front of 221B. Glancing out Mycroft made a note of the bright Christmas lights on the windows and fence, and the large decorated wreath on the door spoke highly of John's influence. As Mycroft followed Greg up the stairs to his brothers flat he could feel the anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach. It was illogical and childish but he couldn't seem to stop it.

When the two men reached the door to the flat Mycroft hung back, letting Greg open the door. Light, music, and laughter spilled from the open door and Mycroft swallowed heavily. He didn't want to walk in and have everyone just stop and stare and the party die because of his presence. He didn't want to see and deduct the indications that his presence was unwanted…that he was unwanted there. From his past experience's with parties like this it was an embarrassing and highly uncomfortable situation.

Greg was halfway through his greetings when he realized that Mycroft hadn't followed him in. Turning he sighed and went back to the door, looking out at the man who was practically trying to meld with the shadow's outside in the hallway. "Hey everyone I have a surprise for you." Greg called to the rest of the group, and grasping the other man by his arm, literally dragged Mycroft into the party.

Mycroft was too stunned by the unexpected physical contact to really react properly until he was already in the well decorated and fairly crowded flat. A stunned silence fell over everyone and an embarrassed and uncomfortable flush crept up the back of the normally stoic elder Holmes neck. He was about to clear his throat, make an excuse and leave quickly back to his empty and by now cold house to spend the holiday alone once again when Mrs. Hudson suddenly gave a small delighted cry and embraced him tightly.

"Mycroft dear! Merry Christmas. How wonderful to see you."

John was the second one to fully react, and his smile lit up his face nearly as much as the brightly lit hat on his head did. "Join the fun Mycroft. Were just about to open presents."

Sherlock huffed and looking his brother over for a moment or so finally nodded to. "Truce brother for the evening?"

Mycroft nodded, a small smile on his face.

"Truce. And Merry Christmas Sherlock." As Mycroft sat down amid his friends (Greg and John) and family (Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson) a warm glow seemed to take up residence in his chest. Glancing over at the man mainly responsible for putting this foreign feeling there and giving him the first happy Christmas in many years, Mycroft allowed himself a full, true and genuine smile to show on his face. Gregory Lestraud was indeed a good friend. Maybe his best and only friend. Mycroft allowed a fluffy red and white Santa hat to be placed on his head by Sherlock (taken from the skull on the mantle, hat placed their by John no doubt and this was Sherlock removing the offending garment from his 'concentration help' as well as to possibly irritate his brother at the relocation to his head.) Mycroft allowed himself to sink into the warm glow, glancing around at his companions enjoying Christmas as much as he now was able to.

He wasn't alone for Christmas this year.

Maybe he didn't need to be alone for any future Christmas's either.

The End.

Author end note: So? Like or hate? Tell me by reviewing. If people like it their may be a sequel with more Mystraud romanticness involved. Review!


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